


when my head screams louder, you dull the noise

by Espresso-Patronum (BucketRogers)



Series: Stony Bingo Fills [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 07:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18806083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BucketRogers/pseuds/Espresso-Patronum
Summary: Steve is struggling after the events of The Avengers but finds comfort in Tony's presence





	when my head screams louder, you dull the noise

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah I haven't posted anything in a while. I have a crap ton of stuff I've been working on, but most of my writing effort has been going into a big multi-chapter that is going pretty well and will eventually show up (some day).
> 
> In the meantime, though, I felt the need to write some sad Steve and this is just a nice fic with Tony trying his best to help when he can see that Steve is struggling. This also fills my T2 square for the current Stony bingo, "flashfic."
> 
> Thanks a bunch to [Rise](https://riseup-eyesup-wiseup.tumblr.com/) for reading this and giving me the praise I so desperately desire <3

With a sigh, Steve rolled over and look at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 3 in the morning and he’d just been laying in bed for hours now, unable to sleep. In reality, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep at all, but some part of him kept hoping that if he just stayed where he was and closed his eyes, he could eventually trick his body into sleeping.

He stared up at the ceiling for what felt like a few moments, then glanced over at the clock again. Somehow, 10 minutes had passed, and he didn’t remember any of it. He cursed under his breath and pulled himself out of bed.

He went to the elevator, fully intending to go down to the gym. As he walked through his apartment, he tried not to think about how empty it was. It was all his, he could decorate it how he wanted, Tony had made that very clear, but Steve couldn’t think of a single thing worth putting in it. So, he left it blank and empty, keeping the only the necessities and nothing more.

It wasn’t until he got to the elevator that he realized that the gym would be more of the same. Did he really want to be around nothingness right now? Before his more rational side could stop him, he had talked to Jarvis and the elevator was drifting up smoothly towards Tony’s workshop.

Tony was in there, as always. Even through the glass walls, Steve could hear music blasting louder than was possibly safe. He walked up to the door, then realized he had no good explanation for being here at three in the morning. He didn’t get the chance to turn around and leave, though, because Tony happened to spin around and see him standing there.

“Steve?!” Tony shouted over the music, then seemed to notice how loud it was and immediately had Jarvis turn it down. He rushed up to the door then, grinning like a maniac. “Everything good, Cap?”

Steve winced slightly at the nickname, couldn’t help himself. He covered it up with a smile though, or an attempt at one. “Yeah, just couldn’t sleep, I guess. Figured I’d see if you needed any help down here?”

Tony watched him for a second, his gaze way too analytical for Steve’s comfort. “Well, uh, I’ve got nothing you could really help with at the moment, but you’re always welcome to hang out, so you know. I work better when I can ramble ideas at someone, you don’t even have to understand them, just sit there and look pretty.” Then Tony was smiling, a thousand-watt smile that, in Steve’s opinion, could definitely light up New York, so he found himself nodding.

Right away, Tony grabbed Steve’s arm gently, guiding him in, and Steve had to take a breath and control himself. He still hadn’t gotten used to the amount of touching that seemed so present with Tony. It was comforting, in its own way, reminding him of the 40s, of cold nights where the only reason he didn’t die was that Bucky wrapped himself around him and kept him warm. It was still different, though, with a certain distinction that made him feel dirty and wrong.

Drifting in some half-aware space, he followed Tony to the workbench. Nothing on it was recognizable, except for maybe a wrench. He didn’t have to worry, though, because Tony just pushed him down onto a stool and started rambling. Steve let himself drift, not understanding a single thing but enjoying the constant rumble of Tony’s voice.

It really was soothing, listening to Tony, especially like this. Tony could be infuriating sometimes, but like this, in the workshop, he was calming. It was so clear just from his voice that he knew what he was doing, and the surety was like a blanket wrapped around him. Tony was in his element here, inventing the most wonderful things like it was second nature to him.

“Hey, Steve?” Tony’s voice cut through his hazy state, making him sit up, suddenly alert and on edge. It took Tony’s hand on his shoulder for him to relax, but even then, he felt himself slipping into defense mode, ready to attack at the slightest threat.

“Stevie, hey, is everything okay?” At that, though, at hearing that nickname come out of Tony’s mouth, he jerked back.

“Don’t,” he husked out, shaking his head and looking down. “Don’t call me Stevie.” It just reminded him too much of the past. Stevie felt like someone else, not who he was now. Stevie was a scrappy kid with way too much anger for his own good. Stevie was Bucky’s pal, the kid who could barely get through a day without an asthma attack or some other medical emergency.

“Okay, hey, that’s fine, no Stevie. Are you okay, though? You kinda spaced out there, bud.”

Steve took a breath and shrugged. “Sorry, I’m good. Guess I just blanked or whatever. Did I miss something?”

Tony was still watching him, his gaze still analytical in a disconcerting way. “Not particularly, no, but… it’s been like an hour since I’ve even said anything and you were still just sitting there. I mean, I’ve done it before, I’ve missed whole days before cause I got too busy working, but I remember enough from Pepper’s lectures to know dissociation isn’t really a good thing.”

“Dissociation?” Steve frowned and looked up at him. “It’s not- I’m not dissociating, or anything, I just spaced out, it’s nothing like that.” At the doubtful look on Tony’s face, Steve got even more defensive and continued, “I’m fine, Tony, I am. Really.”

Tony sighed softly, but it seemed like he didn’t want to argue. Instead, after a moment, Steve felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing once before letting go. “Alrighty. You wanna help me out with something, then? Come on, follow me.”

Steve hesitated for a second but found himself following Tony again. Soon, he was sat on the ground beside an old car while Tony lay underneath it, tinkering with stuff. Tony kept up his rambling, only stopping to ask for a tool occasionally. Yet again, Steve spaced out but managed to stay present enough to push stuff under the car for Tony. Despite the earlier stress, he was able to relax again, falling into the monotony of it.

While Tony worked, Steve’s eyes wandered around the room. The workshop was always messy in an organized way, somehow. Tools and parts were scattered everywhere, but everything had its place. In a way, it reminded him of Howard’s lab at the base, and that connection just made him feel weird.

He looked over at Tony, or what he could see of him. Tony was the one thing left from Steve’s time, both the spitting image of Howard and a complete polar opposite. The man in front of him now was just as bright as his father, even more so. They had the same manic energy, the same fervor for invention, but something about Tony made it seem so much brighter and optimistic than it had in the 40s.

Where Howard dreamt of the recognition and acclaim of what he did, Tony just loved the thrill of creation. Sure, Howard had enjoyed what he did, but something about his grandstanding ways always made Steve uncomfortable. Tony surely had his quirks, was arrogant at times, but something about his excitement whenever he finished an upgrade to the armor was so pure and good.

Steve both missed and hated the past with equal passion. Everything about back then had been horrid, for the most part. He had spent so much of his life skinny and constantly dying, and the war hadn’t made things any better. The one shining light amongst all of it had been Bucky, and he lost him too. Sometimes, though, Steve longed for the simplicity of it all. The base calmness of knowing that nothing was changing. Sure, things were hard and living had been a challenge, but at least he had something resembling normal. He was gonna keep working, just getting by. Bucky would have come home from the war and they could have lived together, got by together. There would be girls passing through, Bucky would have his flings, certainly, but in the end, it would have been them. Maybe Steve would have died normally, in his own time, and he wouldn’t be sitting here, 70 years into the future, completely alone despite being constantly surrounded by people.

“Sometimes I wish that I never joined Project: Rebirth.” The words were out before he could stop them and he was honestly stunned that he had said them. There was silence, then grunting as Tony worked his way out from under the car. Once he was free, he came to sit in front of Steve. On the floor like this, their knees were touching and it felt like they were just so close but so far at the same time.

“I’m gonna be honest here, Steve, I don’t blame you.” The words came as such a relief that Steve nearly started crying. It was like Tony could tell, somehow, because suddenly there were hands on his shoulders, pulling him in gently, and Steve didn’t have the strength to hold back the sudden onslaught of tears.

There were more words to be said, so many more, but for now, Steve just sank into Tony’s arms, letting go of everything that had been building up, and somehow, it was enough. Being held felt so damn good, felt so safe, and he never wanted to pull away ever.

“It’s okay, Steve, you can cry, go ahead. I’ve got you.” The way that Tony said it, so matter of fact, Steve believed it. He needed to believe it because if he didn’t he was going to fall apart and shatter into a thousand tiny pieces, but it was okay because he was here with Tony. Amidst his tears, Steve could barely manage to see straight, but he got out the few words that mattered, the ones that needed to be said.

“Thank you.”


End file.
